


Signs of Drowning

by AWarningSign



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Ava still can't swim, F/F, Luckily Sister Beatrice can, Respect the water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:46:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25293412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AWarningSign/pseuds/AWarningSign
Summary: Ava falls into something a little more serious than a swimming pool.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 77
Kudos: 991





	1. Chapter 1

The first rule is that you don't take your eyes off them. Don’t look away - because if you do, and they slip beneath the surface where you can’t see them then your job just got harder, and their chances of survival just plummeted.

So you don’t take your eyes off them.

Beatrice couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. She’d watched it happen in slow motion – a moment of playfulness, of camaraderie between friends soured in a single second. One second of horseplay - one wild throw, one dramatic leap. One young woman who didn’t quite know her new strength. One crumbling ledge above a beautiful lake.

Ava fell, fell, fell.

When they heard her hit the water Beatrice was already running. Her sisters followed, or didn't follow, she could only see one thing.

Beatrice had memorized the signs of drowning once, on the tiled edges of her school pool. 

By the time she reached the edge of the lake Ava was panic-stricken, head way back and mouth open, gasping. Beatrice fumbled at her heavy outer robe, shaking hands betraying her haste even as she scrambled to toe off her boots.

There’s a myth that it takes a long time to drown.

Rule number one, don’t take your eyes off them.

Beatrice hit the water hard, stepping gracelessly forward from her ledge and pressing down violently against the icy cold spray, stubbornly keeping her head from dipping beneath the surface with the surging of her arms.

Don’t take your eyes off her.

Ava was frantically fighting to stay afloat, chin bobbing barely above the lapping waters, arms churning helplessly. Beatrice swam harder than she’d ever swum, barely feeling the burn in her lungs from the cold, from her furious pace. Ava was right there.

A drowning person will be panicked. They will struggle and cling to anything they can. They won’t be rational. Beatrice had practiced this a lifetime ago, under bright lights and in air thick with chlorine. She’d swum in her pyjamas, awkwardly “rescuing” a bored, placid classmate.

Ava was blind with fear, that much was obvious. Beatrice reached for her, calling loudly, as clearly as her panting breath would allow.

“Ava! Ava listen to me! I’m going – Gonna pull you to shore! You’ve got to -” Ava dipped below the water, eyes rolling in fear. Beatrice grabbed her, hauling the struggling woman toward her, angling her own body below Ava’s as she tried to coax her onto her back. Ava fought blindly, gasping and pawing at the water, at Beatrice; blindly grabbing for anything solid.

A panicked swimmer can drag an unwary rescuer down with them.

“Ava listen to me. You’ve got to stop struggling. I’ve got you, I promise I’ve got you!” Beatrice’s legs burned, lungs burned, eyes stung. Her hands were firm on Ava’s hip and shoulder, forcing her up above the surface with powerful kicks.

Her swimming instructor had called it the “lifesaving jellyfish” to a chorus of tittering laughs.

Ava struggled weakly, clearly tiring. Beatrice was too. She’d shucked as much weight as she could in the frantic scramble down to the water’s edge, but Ava was in sturdy boots and her waterlogged layers pulled heavily at them both. “Ava please, stay still! I’ve got you! I’m not letting go, I’ve got you!”

Finally, finally, Beatrice’s words seemed to puncture the haze of panic. Either that or Ava was too exhausted to struggle. Beatrice gritted her teeth, treading water as she rearranged her hold.  
“Gonna put my hand – under your chin. I'll pull you to- It’ll keep-” Beatrice spat out a mouth full of water and heaved in a breath. “It’s gonna keep you above water, I’ve got you.”

She’d been taught to tow from under the chin, to stop their head going under again. Your legs kick beneath them, and your spare arm can help pull with some sedate backstroke.

This was not Beatrice’s brightly lit school pool, and Ava wasn’t an apathetic classmate. She seemed to have calmed a little, but gripped Beatrice's wrist tightly, bordering on painfully.

Beatrice swam like lives depended on it. They weren’t far from the shore, and Beatrice’s heart drummed rabbit-fast even as she reached for the safety of the rocky ledge. Finally, finally she heard the calls of her sisters, craning her neck awkwardly to spy them waiting intently on the shore.  
Mary was leaning out over the water, anchored by Lilith’s towering form. Camila hovered by their sides. Beatrice rallied her flagging strength,

Several hands grasped her, the overlapping garbled voices of her sister warriors blurred around her as she was hauled from the cold water. The stone was solid beneath her trembling form, warm hands pressed at her and voices clamoured to be heard, but she couldn’t make sense of their words.

Ava was flat on her back on the rock and gasping, heaving deep trembling breaths. Beatrice couldn't tear her eyes away, desperately soaking in the blatant signs of life.

Alive, alive, alive.

Beatrice’s ears rang and her limbs quaked with exertion and the ebb of adrenaline. She allowed herself to collapse slowly to the ground beside Ava. She sat hunched over on her hands and knees, staring blankly at the steady fall of icy droplets of water from her hair to the stone beneath her, just panting. Waiting for her heart rate to settle, for her limbs to regain their strength.  
Suddenly there were hands on her again. Beatrice flinched violently at the warmth, feeling all at once the sickening chill settling in her bones.

“Beatrice? You ok?” Ava rasped from beside her. There was a hand on her face, brushing her sodden hair back. Ava was looking up at her, rolled half onto her side to reach up to her. Her fingers brushed delicately along her cheek and Beatrice automatically reached up, holding Ava’s wrist lightly. She huffed out a tired, involuntary chuckle.

“I think we should be asking you that really.”

“You did just do your best to drown yourself, girl.” Mary’s teasing voice was layered heavily with relief, Beatrice could feel it from all her assembled sisters, feel the tension easing from her limbs.  
She could also feel Ava’s pulse thrumming fast but steady against the palm of her hand.

Camila dropped to her knees by Ava’s head, expressive face twisted in sorrow and ebbing fear.

“Ava I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been messing around like that so close to the ledge, are you ok? You fell so far..” Camila’s soft voice trailed off as she looked up at Beatrice, eyes shiny with a hint of tears. “I’ll be more careful, Sister...” Beatrice dropped Ava’s hand and gathered herself to stand, ignoring the tremble that persisted. She took several shaky steps back, away from Camila and Ava, half turning to search out her discarded habit.

“We could all stand to be more careful, more aware of our surroundings.” Beatrice addressed the stone near Ava’s head. An enormous understatement as a placeholder, while she fought for her usual calm. Fought to think of anything other than a sickening loop of icy water and fear. Lilith stepped in closer to Beatrice, proffering an armful of cloth and reaching out to rub a warm palm across Beatrice’s back. The sodden cling of her undershirt brought on a violent wave of goose-flesh, and the clammy brush of wet hair on her neck made her teeth chatter. 

“We need to move, find somewhere sheltered to settle for a while. We need to get you both dried out and warmed up as soon as possible.”

“These mountains have a load of little caves dotted around, our best bet is to find one and hunker down, thaw out our high dive champion and lil’ miss lifeguard over here.” Mary drawled out the new nicknames sardonically, eyebrow quirked as she fixed Beatrice with a pointed stare. 

“Agreed. I’m freezing, lets get going.”


	2. Chapter 2

Mary was getting a headache. The shotgun-toting warrior was many things, but she was neither blind nor stupid. Ava might be oblivious to it, but everyone else could see the wealth of emotion playing out across Sister Beatrice’s usually stoic expression. In all five of the years Mary’s known her fellow sister, she’s never seen the younger woman like this. Beatrice was guarded, always so careful with her words and actions. Mary’d had inklings about the walls that had taken years to come down amongst her sisters, but seemed to crumble in seconds in the face of the new halo-bearer. In any other situation she would be taking this as validation that her gaydar reigned supreme. Maybe once all this shit was sorted she’d take a moment to gloat.

Mary had watched Camila pick up on it early on, while Ava bled on the SUV carpet as they ran from Cat’s Cradle. She’d seen the calculating glint in the smaller woman’s eye and felt a wave of exhaustion at the thought of whatever machinations were sure to come. She’d shared countless exasperated glances with Lilith as they witnessed moments loaded with tension, cropping up at the most innocuous of times. 

Ava’s most recent near death experience was no different. Beatrice had reacted before Mary had even finished computing what had happened. Camilla and Ava had been playing catch, or maybe some strange dodge-ball variant with a bright yellow stress ball they’d found in the glove compartment of their “borrowed” van. Mary had joined in from time to time, mostly driven by her gleeful enjoyment of whipping the ball at Ava and making her yelp. 

Hey, it’s all about the simple things. 

They’d made it back to their own van after worming their way out of the square. Mary tried not to think too hard on the carnage. The snake Vincent had the keys so they’d busted the trunk open and grabbed their bags before high-tailing it out of Vatican City. And hey, if they’d left the van in a slightly less usable condition than they’d found it, well, no one could prove anything. Camila hot-wired an older van for them in about 4 seconds flat, and they’d driven like hell. 

After a couple of hours they stopped in a nondescript town to switch drivers, pick up some supplies from a pharmacy for the variety of injuries they sported, maybe grab a hot meal. That plan had quickly been derailed when Ava had tugged distractedly on Beatrice’s sleeve, wide eyes fixed on a nondescript group of construction workers. Her tense posture got the message across quickly, no words needed. 

The men, and their infernal passengers, didn’t approach them, just watched from a distance. The kind of pointed watching that made Mary mad, the kind that was meant to intimidate; to send a message. So they’d had to change their plans. They grabbed what supplies they could and had ostentatiously driven out of town on the main road, winding a couple of miles out into the countryside before ditching the van on the edge of a fallow field behind an overgrown hedge.

From there they’d struck out on foot. Beatrice – prepared as usual - produced a map from somewhere and set them on route towards a town some 25 km to the west, where they’d steal another car and head north on the smaller coastal roads. Hopefully that’d buy them a little more time. Time to – well. Time to plan, to regroup, to work something out. 

They needed all the time they could get.

Hence the rocky, beautiful wilderness of the Italian countryside. Unfortunately, this came complete with countless dangers to an overly excitable, recently resurrected young woman with the basic coordination of a newborn deer. They’d made it a few hours without incident, and in hindsight Mary should have heard the alarm bells much earlier. Fucking hindsight.

Anyway, Camila had somehow forgotten everything she’d ever learned about projectiles. Folded over with laughter at whatever dumb pun Ava had just cracked, she’d lobbed the little yellow ball wildly. And Ava had leapt like a moronic gazelle - all fluid grace and power, and exactly zero situational awareness. So she’d fallen 30 foot into a lake and Beatrice had basically flown down to save her, and now the pair of them were cold and soggy and stressed, and Mary was getting a headache.

Fortunately, they’d found a reasonable shelter after only a harried half hour of searching, and now the Sister Warriors were gathered around a modest campfire in mildly waterlogged silence. Mary’s mood had briefly been lifted when Ava choked on her own spit at the sight of Beatrice shimmying out of her wringing wet undershirt before donning her dry outer robe. The kid must have given herself whiplash with the speed she started staring at the sky, and the glow of the fire paled in comparison to her flush. Mary had to chew at the inside of her cheek to stop the laughter, and a swift glance across the clearing at Camila did nothing to help her calm down. The younger nun had one hand pressed firmly over her mouth, wide gleeful eyes boring straight into Mary's brain.

“Ava, you just gonna sit there drippin’? Ain’t got time for you to catch your death out here.” Ava visibly startled, head rolling dramatically down from her intense observation of the lightly cloudy sky to blink at Mary. God, this child was going to be the death of them. 

“Uhh, I didn’t exactly have time to take off my jacket or anything while I was plummeting towards a freezing lake, so I kinda figured I’d just… drip dry?” Ava blinked big guileless eyes at Mary for about a second before Beatrice hissed out a sharp, derisive breath. Camila widened her eyes dramatically at Mary, who continued to studiously ignore her. 

“You’ll freeze before you dry, idiot.” Lilith sounded precisely as over this entire situation as Mary felt. Beatrice was methodically, mechanically unlacing and re-lacing her boots, a muscle in her jaw working furiously. Mary rolled her eyes, dragging the nearest of the two duffel bags over to her side. 

“If you wanna stay like that I ain’t gonna stop you, but we’ve probably got enough spare shit to keep you decent.” Ava nodded slowly, toying with her sodden jacket sleeve - then yelped as she was hit in the face by the habit Mary had thrown. “One day you’ll learn to pay attention, too...” Mary chuckled to herself, rolling her eyes heavenward and shaking her head.

“The sooner you learn that, the better it will be for us all.” Beatrice’s voice was terse, as sharp and clipped as her movements as she rethreaded the laces on her other boot.

“What? Pssht, no! I’m – I’m super alert and – and observant! Like, all the time!”

Beatrice set down her boots violently, standing and grabbing her discarded, soggy clothes and proceeding to wring them out with what looked like barely contained fury.

Lord above, here we go, thought Mary. 

Lilith slowly pulled the other duffel over to her side, fishing determinedly through the contents with unnecessary focus. Camila fidgeted visibly, before hopping to her feet.

“I’m going to go and gather us some more firewood! Also, if there’s any wire in the bag I can probably make a clothes line, which might be useful? But yeah I’m just gonna – Bye!” And off she went, practically skipping off into the trees in her hurry.

“You didn’t look particularly alert and observant as you were jumping off a cliff, Ava.” Beatrice snapped. Ava flinched, hunching in her seat and fixing Beatrice with what was surely a wounded puppy-dog expression. Beatrice looked fit to snap with all the helpless anger and fear and plaintive longing. 

If they were going to get into their feelings – and they definitely were, Mary wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Aaaalright, I’m gonna head down to the lake, fill up our water – Lilith will you pass me the iodine tabs?” Lilith fixed her with a piercing stare, a stare that threatened violence. Mary grinned, before throwing her sister a lifeline. “On second thoughts, how about you come with, give me a hand. My back is one whole mess still...”

“Of course Sister, wouldn’t want you making anything worse would we. Let's go.” Lilith rose to her feet, still scowling, and swept imperiously over to Mary. Eyebrows hiked to near her hairline, Mary followed, turning her back on the strained tableau with a wave.

“Now you all behave, children, we’ll be back soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary needs a nap, when will she get to rest.   
> Will Beatrice and Ava will ever talk about their feelings? Will Ava will ever get dry? Who's to say.
> 
> Side note - I've been writing for years and now is the first time I've been brave/impulsive enough to put anything anywhere other than my hard drive, or a google doc if I'm feeling saucy - and I'm so so pleased at the feedback you guys have given me, it's super motivating, so thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

Ava was pretty sure she had spent more than her fair share of time confused. She’d barely had time to breathe since being literally raised from the dead. Now she was escaping a mysterious dimension-hopping man and his zombifying wraith demon army across the Italian countryside with a group of nuns. A group of nuns who had collectively, to date: sedated her, chained her to a bed, tried to kill her for training, tried to kill her for real, kicked her off a cliff, and then tried to kill her again. 

But then, they’d also saved her life more times than she could count. They’d shown her compassion and respect and trust - they’d fed her, clothed her and cared for her. Hell, Lilith had full on died for her, and hey, just because she’d pulled her own Jesus trick didn’t lessen the impact of something like that. They’d become a unit, a messy little family.

It’d been a weird few weeks. And Ava was getting the hang of things - she’d done some growing, thank you very much. She’d pulled on her big girl world-saving pants and stopped running.

But now everything had been turned on its head all over again.

“I’m sorry Beatrice. I didn’t mean t -”

“Didn’t mean to what? To fall? To put yourself in harms way, again?” Beatrice’s voice was sharp and the tone made Ava wince, shrinking in on herself involuntarily. As long as she’d known her, Beatrice had always spoken kindly to her. Her soft, clear voice had been a steady anchor to safety more than once. Hearing that same voice raised against her hurt. Chin ducked to her chest, Ava risked a glance across the camp towards her apparently furious companion.

Beatrice had her back to Ava. There was no difficulty discerning the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness of her back and the clench of her hands by her sides. Even barefoot and damp she exuded a certain air of danger, a palpable haze of tightly leashed energy, and Ava had no idea how to diffuse it.

Clearly, she’d fucked something up somehow. Seemed about right for her, really.

“I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry you had to come rescue me again. I didn’t mean to make you angry. I’ll stop messing around, I swear – I just – please don’t be mad at me?” That pitiful question only had a second to hang in the air before Beatrice let out a high pitched scoff.

“You think I’m angry because I had to save you? Ava, for – I – you’re such an idiot!” Beatrice whirled around, voice high and strained. The taller woman swept an absent hand through her wet hair, advancing a few paces and fixing Ava with the full force of her piercing gaze.

“Is that not why? You’re probably all sick of having to constantly save my ass.”

“Language.” The reprimand was like the crack of a gun shot.

“For fuuu - flip’s sake. Jeez. Sorry.” 

Beatrice closed her eyes, brow furrowed, and stood with the stillness of someone counting pointedly to ten in their head. It was a look she was viscerally familiar with from the orphanage, and she was overcome with a wave of nausea at the thought of Beatrice looking at her like those others had.

Suddenly itching with discomfort, Ava stood, hands fidgeting with the habit Mary had thrown at her before leaving. Standing up reminded her of the unpleasant cling of her wet clothes, and she grimaced, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

“You should change, you’re going to freeze.” Beatrice’s voice was quiet, a little sad.

Ava nodded rapidly, grasping the out she’d been given with both hands.

“Yeah, I feel gross, I’m gonna change real quick so… yeah...” With a decisive nod and a stomach full of lead Ava took a few tentative steps back, turning away. 

Well, fuck. Well done Ava. 

She stood, absently fidgeted with the zip of her shirt. At least the lake water had washed some of the plaster dust and blood off. Her hands had a slight tremble as they worked at the fancy belt across her hips, struggling to free the sodden, thick base layer. She finally worked it free, tossing the belt carelessly aside and moving to peel off the shirt.

Every sharp word out of Beatrice’s mouth had stung so much. The look on her face had made her chest ache. Beatrice had been such a constant in her hectic re-introduction to the OCS. She was steady and solid and reassuring. Equal parts supportive and ready to push her to be more, better - she’d pushed Ava through her own personal 20 foot of stone, emotional and literal, for god’s sake. She’d been there to catch her on the other side too, all warm hands and soft eyes that Ava had happily fallen into. Patient, sweet, and finally coming around to all the puns Ava peppered into conversation. They’d started accidentally, but soon Ava was just trying to get her to smile that fond, exasperated little smile that made -

Wait. Hold on. Hold the fucking phone.

Ava froze, shirt halfway over her head, arms crossed in front of her face.

“Holy shit!” And apparently that was out loud, if the aggrieved growl from Beatrice was anything to go by.

Holy shit, I’m so into Beatrice. 

Ava jerked back into motion, fully intending to throw her sodden shirt off and don the dry habit - and then finally be able to take off her soggy leggings. Unfortunately, Ava’s moment of emotional clarity came at a cost. Limbs uncoordinated with shock, what she actually achieved was a peculiar jerking motion that not only ripped the shirt, but also snagged the zipper in her tangled hair. To add insult to injury, the wet fabric then bunched awkwardly above her shoulders, stalling her entirely and trapping her in a damp cotton prison.

“Ow, shi – how the – Stupid piece of – ow!” Ava struggled futilely, swearing under her breath as the zip tugged painfully at her scalp. 

“Ava, what’s – oh. What are you doing?” Beatrice’s voice held a trace of amusement.

“Losing a fight with my shirt, apparently. As if today hasn’t been bad enough.” Ava grumbled darkly, feeling her cheeks burning with mortification.

“Do you need a hand?” To her credit, Beatrice did an impressive job at keeping her voice neutral.

“I – Yes. Yes please.” Ava sighed heavily, stilling her arms. Her left shoulder was starting to cramp up. With her eyes mostly covered with wet shirt and her own arms, Ava had to guess at the expression on Beatrice’s face. Probably nothing good.

Then there were gentle hands in her hair, a soft hum of concentration as Beatrice methodically untangled whatever mess Ava had managed to get herself into. She felt the barest whisper of a brush of cloth against her bare stomach and heard her own breath hitch. Quite suddenly, Ava couldn’t breathe. Of all the times to realise how goddamn into someone she was.

“How on earth did you manage this Ava?” Beatrice chuckled lightly, voice quiet and close.

“Honestly, I have no idea.” Ava wriggled slightly as her shirt was tugged up, the wet fabric finally coming over her head and freeing her arms. “It’s like it knows I’m not a nun, and it’s fighting back.”

“That must be it, be careful or that habit will strangle you next.” With a flourish, Beatrice tugged the offending cursed fabric free. Ava blinked rapidly as her vision was restored.

Beatrice was right there. Obviously, as she’d had to free her from the stupid shirt. No big deal, just standing topless in front of a gorgeous nun who jumped into a lake to save you. Standard Wednesday things, right?

Up close like this Beatrice looked far more sad than angry – and fuck if that wasn’t somehow worse. God, she needed to do something about this. Damn personal growth, why couldn’t Mary reappear and interrupt this like she had on the stupid ferry.

“Can you tell me what I did? Why you’re mad? I really hate making you feel like – like this.” Ava gesticulated half heartedly, waving at Beatrice’s general being like a fool. Beatrice frowned and sighed, taking a step away from Ava. She ran her hands through her hair harshly, anxiously, and Ava ached to ease the discomfort.

“I’m not mad, Ava.” Ava snorted, before clapping a hand over her mouth.

“Sorry! Sorry, I just – are you sure? You seemed preeeeeetty mad...” Ava sometimes wished she would just stop talking, but apparently she still hadn’t unlocked the ability to think before she spoke. 

Beatrice looked at Ava with something heavy in her gaze, eyes soft. Ava couldn’t look away, barely wanted to blink.

“I wasn’t angry, I was scared. Scared for you, I’m still scared for you. Don’t you get that -?” She looked so pained at the admission that Ava reflexively reached out to her, resting a hand lightly on the taller woman’s arm. 

“I’m fine, you got me out in like, 30 seconds. Which – super cool by the way. And thanks, obviously...” Ava peered up at Beatrice, desperately trying to decipher the jumble of emotions crossing her face. God, people were so complicated.

“No! Not cool, you could have died. You have to learn to look, you know? To look before you leap. To think for a second. You keep just charging head first into danger - Ava, you could have died.” Beatrice’s voice was choked, halfway between anger and fear, and she gripped Ava’s wrists firmly as if to emphasise her point. Ava watched helplessly as a single tear rolled down Beatrice’s cheek.

“And - and you could have drowned me too, you know that? There were a hundred different ways everything could have gone wrong. And it’s my job to be prepared – to have a plan. But I didn’t - couldn’t even think. I just – just dove straight in after you.” 

Ava wanted to curl up and disappear.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered, voice hoarse. Beatrice stepped in even closer, shifting her hands to link with Ava’s, warm palms pressed together. Ava swayed in, forehead lightly resting against Beatrice’s jaw, taking the offered comfort even as she felt her heart sinking.

“Don’t be. I’d do it again.” Beatrice murmured shakily. “I think that’s what scared me the most.”

Ava’s eyes widened, mind racing a mile a minute and she leant back to fix Beatrice with a bewildered stare. 

“But you literally just said – I’m supposed to look first – how is me making you jump into a lake for me OK?” Ava sputtered, thoroughly confused and lightly shivering. Beatrice huffed out a soft disbelieving laugh, fond smile back in place. Ava felt like she was missing something huge. Apparently that confusion was clear on her face. 

“You’ve managed to miss the whole point again, you know.” Beatrice smiled softly, gently releasing one of Ava’s hands to brush back an errant strand of her hair. Ava shivered at the contact even as she automatically leaned into it.

“Yeah, I really think I have.”

Then there were warm hands framing her face and a whisper soft brush of pressure against her lips.

Which meant – Beatrice was kissing her. Beatrice. Kissing her.

Ava’s entire brain short-circuited. When she was aware of her body again she had her arms around Beatrice, and was up on her tiptoes to even out their height difference.

Holy shit, this is happening.

And then quite suddenly Ava was failing to stifle a giggle, grinning into the kiss until Beatrice leant back, mock affront written all over her face.

“Sorry, sorry – I’m not –“ Ava stifled another laugh, stomach full of butterflies. “I’m not in the habit of kissing nuns, y’know?” Ava grinned up at Beatrice, fingers toying absently with the scratchy fabric of her collar.

Beatrice sighed heavily, face moving through a whole journey of emotions, before settling on the fondly exasperated grin that Ava was hoping for. 

“Well,” the taller woman flicked her eyes up and down Ava’s half-clad body, before flushing a lovely pink. “You should probably get into the habit. Specifically that one, before you freeze to death.”

Ava laughed giddily, which wasn’t a word she’d ever thought of in conjunction with herself. Then again, Beatrice probably counted as reasonable circumstances for giddiness. 

…  
Meanwhile, exactly 189.4 meters away in the woods sat Camila, tactical binoculars in place. Mary and Lilith were silently glowering either side of their younger sister warrior, both still smarting slightly from the brief - yet highly competitive, scuffle over who got to play spy. The sullen silence was broken by a victorious cackle, Camila throwing her hands up and shimmying excitedly in place.

“Yes! Pay up, both of you! I knew it!” Lilith dropped her head into her hands and Mary groaned.

“You do realise they’re both going to be so much worse now, right?” Lilith mumbled.

And she was right, they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, folks.   
> Turns out, conversations about feelings are just as hard to navigate when all the feelings involved belong to fictional characters. Who knew!   
> Thank you for all the lovely comments, and due to the way classical conditioning works, this positive feedback means I'm probably going to write more gay nun shenanigans in the future.   
> Thank you and goodnight.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not and have never been a lifeguard, but I definitely did have a swimming instructor who taught me the lifesaving jellyfish, and I have awkwardly "rescued" a classmate from the deep end of my local pool. Respect the water folks, only swim where there's a lifeguard present.  
> I cannot believe I'm writing fanfiction about maybe-gay nuns now, but I guess 2020 has been a weird year for everyone.


End file.
